


Slippy's Chance

by memoriast



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: (not in a sexy way), Gen, Thieves Guild, Verbal Humiliation, adopted family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 15:17:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19396825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memoriast/pseuds/memoriast
Summary: "This family has fed and trained you for years, and still you lack the basic skills to pick a lock, to pickpocket, to nottrip over your own siblings! What kind of a thief are you, Slippy!?"He isn't any kind of thief at all. He's known it for years, but hearing Mother say it... It's like that one cut she taught him when he was a teenager, the one that guarantees your opponent a slow, agonizing bleed-out."I will give you one more chance, Slippy." Her voice is just a little softer now. Maybe she wanted to spare him the humiliation of crying in front of everyone. That’s what he hopes. "One more chance. Don't waste it."





	Slippy's Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: Parent verbally humiliating their child in front of family. The family in this context is a thieves' guild, and the parent is the leader.

"Slippy, tell me. How many missions have we failed because of your incompetence?"

He doesn't need to count. He remembers them all clear as day. "Only three, Mother," he mutters, looking down at his hands. Not looking at her. Not looking at his siblings, hardened eyes hiding their worry. Not looking at the rest of his family members, who have been gathered here to watch his humiliation.

" _Only_ three? Three missions to the houses of important diplomats, who will be on their guard for years now that they have caught thieves stealing their heirlooms. What does this mean for the future of our family, hmm, Slippy?"

"I-" He gulps. "I guess it means we got three less- three fewer toffs to rob."

"Three fewer _informants_ , Slippy. Three diplomats who deal in secrets we could have sold to the highest bidder."

There's a long pause. He doesn't dare look up.

"I picked you up off the street. I vouched for you. I placed my trust in you even after you _fucked_ up."

He flinches. Mother never swears unless she's really upset. She must be furious now - he can feel every word burning into his skin.

"This family has fed and trained you for years, and still you lack the basic skills to pick a lock, to pickpocket, to not _trip over your own siblings_! What kind of a thief are you, Slippy!?"

He isn't any kind of thief at all. He's known it for years, but hearing Mother say it... It's like that one cut she taught him when he was a teenager, the one that guarantees your opponent a slow, agonizing bleed-out. His eyes sting with tears. If he blinks, they'll fall, and everyone will see, and he can't have that, so he forces his eyes to stay open.

"Mother," he croaks. "I'm sorr-"

"I will give you one more chance, Slippy." Her voice is just a little softer now. Maybe she wanted to spare him the humiliation of crying in front of everyone. That’s what he hopes. "One more chance. Don't waste it."

He looks up through his tears to see Mother take out a pocket knife and deftly slice open a fine envelope. A letter?

"One Lord Octavias Winterbottom has died and left to a Lady Sau-Mei Tsaa a share of his grand mansion, east of the mountains off Lake Crest-shore," she reads. "We have arranged for this lady to be... indisposed for the foreseeable future. Your task is to attend this supper on her behalf and secure as large a share of the mansion as possible. Use that charm of yours, Slippy, and prove that you deserve a place in this family."

Quicker than his eyes can follow, the letter is back in its envelope, and Mother is there, in front of him, offering her hand. He tilts his head back to look up at her, the tears running into his hair. Her eyes are warm and merciful as she looks down at him. She is the one who raised him and his siblings, taught them to steal and fight, listened to their worries late at night when the rest of the family had gone to bed. She commands power and respect and love, and to lose her favour is to lose the favour of the entire family.

He cannot let that happen.

He reaches up and grasps her hand, pulling himself to his feet. She smooths his hair, kisses his forehead, and then she is gone, calling out for the dinner preparations to begin. The family rises, murmuring amongst themselves as they head to the kitchen. No one comes to comfort Slippy – not yet, anyway. He knows his siblings will hold him tonight, reassure him, make him laugh with silly stories until one of the auncles tells them to pipe down and let the adults sleep.

But for now, he slips out and heads down to the docks, comforted by the sound of waves lapping against the sea wall and gulls squawking overhead. The docks are still bustling at this hour, and blending anonymous into the crowd, he finally, finally lets himself cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Written as backstory for my D&D character, for [pinkevilbob](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkevilbob)'s haunted house one-shot.
> 
> Would just like to clarify I have no idea what I'm doing! Writing? I don't know her!
> 
> Lady Tsaa's first name is taken from [Sau-Mei](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shoumei_tea), one of my family's favourite teas (her last name, "Tsaa", means tea). Perhaps she will also have siblings named [Ti-Gunyam](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tieguanyin) and [Po-Lei](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pu%27er_tea).


End file.
